Benoît Assou-Ekotto still finds the concept faintly amazing, despite having lived in England for the past five years, and so does Sébastien Bassong, his Tottenham Hotspur team-mate, who has been in the country now for three. When the French-born Cameroon internationals ask colleagues such as Jermain Defoe or Aaron Lennon where they come from, the answers touch a nerve that is red raw in France at present.

"They say, of course, that they are English or British," Assou-Ekotto says. "At first, I thought that they must be ashamed of their origins because coming from where I did in France, even if you had only one little drop of Moroccan blood, for example, you would represent it to the death. You would be fiercely proud of being African.

"But here, it is different. People might say that their parents are from Ivory Coast, Nigeria or wherever but they are fiercely proud of being here and the society accepts that, which is a big difference to France. When you ask the same question in France, people will say, 'I'm from Congo or Mali or Cameroon' because there isn't the sense of belonging."

French football remains in the grip of the scandal that erupted two weeks ago when the content of a meeting between federation heads and senior coaches, including the national team manager, Laurent Blanc, was leaked. On the agenda was the sensitive issue of dual-nationality players, who were developed at French academies and even played for the country at youth levels only to declare for their nations of origin. Bassong, a product of Clairefontaine, the renowned centre of excellence, and a former France under-21 player, was named specifically.

When the transcript of the conversation became public, it caused outrage, not least because a "solution", voiced by the France Football Federation's technical director, François Blaquart, had involved limiting the number of non-white 12 and 13-year-olds who entered French training centres and academies. It was alleged that the quota of black and Arab youngsters ought not to exceed 30%. Blaquart has been suspended from his post.

Gallic soul-searching has followed, particularly as France is facing a re-emergence of the far right, with Marine Le Pen, the National Front candidate, soaring in recent opinion polls. The issue has transcended football and has dominated television news and discussion programmes. The presidential election will be held next year and immigration is a hot topic.

Bassong is uncomfortable with his bit part in the eye of the storm but not as uncomfortable as he feels with some of the views that have been expressed. He describes Blaquart's quota suggestion as "insane" and "going far, really far". Clearly, it is also "illegal, inconceivable and contrary to the values of the sport," as the French sports minister, Chantal Jouanno, has said.

The notion that the FFF considered effectively cutting its losses on dual-nationality youngsters feels risible. But the general unpleasantness of the affair has raised more fundamental questions, with the most prominent concerning why young men such as Assou-Ekotto and Bassong, who were born and raised in France, can feel such a disconnection from the society and, by extension, the France national team.

"I'm surprised by this affair but I'm not necessarily shocked because it's a reflection of French society as I see it," Assou-Ekotto says. "I would put a question to you. Can you name another country where, when the national anthem is sung at the stadium, people boo and whistle? This happens in France all the time. It is not foreigners who make up the crowd; it is people who are supposed to be French and yet there is this disconnect between the state and the people, and they do that. And yet, when something is wrong, they highlight the foreigners.

"France has, at its heart, a problem where it has been unable or unwilling to accommodate the sons and daughters of its former colonies, even though France benefited and enriched itself greatly from the relationship. That's hard to accept and it's what sits at the base of what is dysfunctional in France."

Assou-Ekotto and Bassong speak of multicultural England in slightly reverential tones, their stories taking in the Sikh policeman in his turban, the drive-thru McDonald's girl in her burqa and the bank employee with his tattoos.

"I'm not going to lie and say it isn't more difficult in France than it is in England to find work if you have a big beard, for example," Bassong says. "That's just a fact. In England, it's more open and that's why people come here because they know that they will get a chance, no matter how they dress or where they are from.

"In England, minds are more open. That's why French players who play in England don't want to go back to France. The way that English people think… they don't judge you for anything. When you go into a bank, you can see someone who is working with a tattoo. You can't see that in France. French society still has to work with its approach to foreign people."

Assou-Ekotto was born in Arras to a French mother and a Cameroonian father. To him, it was never a consideration to pursue an international career with Les Bleus. The cynics might say that it was because he was not good enough but Assou-Ekotto had turned down the chance to train in the France youth set-up at the age of 14.

It was the same year that France's "Black-Blanc-Beur" team, the supposed model of integration, won the World Cup. "Even at that age, it wasn't something that represented anything to me as an individual," Assou-Ekotto said. "I'd already decided that I didn't have a bond with this nation."

Bassong's take was slightly different. Born in Paris to Cameroonian parents, he was at Clairefontaine when France triumphed in 1998. The players were based at the complex and so he felt "a little connection to them". "But I wasn't thinking, 'Oh yeah, my country won the World Cup'," Bassong added. "I am going to sing, Allons enfants de la patrie..."

As Bassong grew older, so his sense of national identity crystallised. When he was in the France Under-21 team, he gave an interview in which he admitted "my heart beats for Cameroon." He did not play for France again.

"Most of the players on the French national team come from rough areas and when you live there, your friends all have dual nationalities," Bassong said. "When you ask them where they are from, they will say Senegal, Morocco, Algeria… On the side, I was at this French football school but you think, 'I can't let people talk badly to me, I have to show that I am like them. I am a black guy and black means African.' That's it."

Blanc has suffered in the affair, although he has been cleared by an inquiry of supporting discriminatory practices. Bassong said that Blanc had been "touched really badly" but Assou-Ekotto went further.

"The thing is that Blanc was at the meeting and it raised certain subject matter, to which he contributed," Assou-Ekotto said. "If Laurent Blanc were black, do you really think he'd have sat there and gone 'They are doing quotas for the national team. OK, cool?"

The fallout has been devastating and the questions persist. Fifa's rules permit players all over the world to switch their allegiances until the point that they have played a full competitive international but the issue feels most edgy in France.

"I am asking myself why this is," Bassong said. "I definitely get it. As a French Federation member, I can see that it's an issue when a player that you've raised just leaves you. I understand why they need to talk about it. But it's a deep story and it's not only about football."

Assou-Ekotto and Bassong are supporting the Best of Africa Awards at the May Fair hotel in London on 22 May, an event that celebrates the cultural and professional relationship between African footballers and the United Kingdom